PrimalDesign (8 page)

Kitty cringed at the reminder of everything she’d done, but
her stomach twisted into knots as she waited to hear Daisy’s verdict. It was
one thing to defile her cousin’s childhood bedroom and a completely different
thing to have sex in an alley where anyone could hear them, and someone most
definitely saw them.

“Kitty Marie, you’re a
pervert.
” Daisy’s loud voice
bounced off the walls of the alley. “A pervert who probably just scarred Zach
Trahan for fucking life.”

“Not for life, although I’ll definitely be having nice
dreams for a few months,” a wry male voice said behind them.

Monk spun around, his face twisted in surprise. “You won’t
be thinking of it for long if I bust your fucking head open,” he snarled at the
tiger shifter who owned the building they’d just fucked against.

Kitty’s face exploded with heat.
God, what did I do?

“Let me get you home before my daddy comes out here to
investigate,” Daisy suggested with a shove of Monk’s shoulder. “Get outta my
way, alley cat. Taking advantage of my poor, sweet, innocent cousin in an alley
of all places. You’re a pervert too.”

“Wait a second,” Monk stated, reaching for Kitty, but Zach,
always something of a hothead, sauntered up with a cocky grin.

“You’re gonna what, little kitty?” he taunted.

Before Kitty could correct Daisy, apologize to Monk, or
threaten to kick Zach’s ass, her cousin had dragged her out of the alley and
threw her into the front seat of her cruiser. She looked back in time to see
Monk and Zach rolling around the alley.

“You have to stop them,” she told Daisy when her cousin
climbed in the truck.

Daisy peered over her shoulder. “They’re okay. Not using
claws or anything. Besides, after the show you gave him, I’m sure Zach has some
energy to burn and Monk is wishing he could punch me in the face like that, but
won’t because he knows I’d kick his ass.”

Kitty sighed as she turned away from the sight of Monk and
Zach duking it out. Shifting to get comfortable on the seat, she squirmed at
the feel of something rough beneath her tender ass. She looked down to see
Daisy had brought a towel with her.

“You’re such a whore.” Daisy’s words were harsh, but she
said them with a small smile as they drove out of town, leaving the fighting
males behind.

“You’re one to talk. At least I didn’t have some guy eating
me out while I was on the phone with my
mother
,” Kitty shot back,
wrapping the towel around her naked body. “Thanks for the towel.”

“Ram likes to catch me when I’m distracted,” Daisy defended
herself. “You practically pillaged today.” She sniffed. “I’m so proud of you.
And I brought the towel because I refuse to have Monk’s love juice staining my
seats.”

“Daisy!”

Her cousin only grinned and gunned the engine. “Dude, you
can’t play the good girl with me anymore. I now know you’re the kind of girl
who drags a man into an alley and fucks him within an inch of his life and does
it with someone watching.” She held up her fist. “C’mon, give me some, you
kinky bear.”

Kitty groaned and slumped against the door. She was never
going to live this down.

Chapter Six

“Kitty. Kitty, wake up.”

A low whisper and a gentle push on her shoulder roused Kitty
from sleep. She grumbled and buried her head under a pillow. She was having
such an amazing dream. Monk had her tied up to his bed—which she’d never
seen—and was licking honey off her skin. They’d just gotten to the point where
he was devouring her pussy when someone rude wanted to wake her up.

“If you don’t wake up now to stop that boy, Thomas is gonna
go after him with his gun,”
Tante
Claudette insisted in a soft whisper.
“Now get up.”

Her last command was accompanied by a sharp slap to Kitty’s
ass. Kitty let out a muffled yelp and sat up to glare at her aunt. A glare that
died as her aunt gave her The Eye.
Damn, they should not be able to do that
to fully grown women.
But she looked down anyway.

“Sorry,
Tante
Claudette,” she mumbled as she rubbed
at her eyes. “What’s wrong? Who’s getting shot?”

Claudette folded her arms over her chest, her long nightgown
a lot prettier than Kitty would have expected of her straitlaced aunt. “Monk’s
gonna get shot if he doesn’t stop that caterwauling. Thomas has been working
fifteen-hour shifts this week with one of his deputies out and he’ll either
shoot that idiot, or arrest him.”

Kitty gaped and vaulted out of bed, throwing on her short
silk robe. “Monk? Where? What’s he doing?”

“Don’t you hear it?” Claudette asked, cocking her head to
the side.

Pausing in the process of grabbing her sneakers, Kitty
listened as well and heard…music. “What in the world?”

She darted out the guest room, down the stairs she’d nearly
broken in her haste to get out of the house the day before, and onto the porch.
After that, she wasn’t sure she could walk anymore, or breathe. Because Monk stood
in front of her aunt’s house wearing his high school letterman jacket. It was a
little tight around the shoulders, but she remembered wearing it during Mardi
Gras and breathing in his scent embedded in the material.

That wasn’t what stopped her short though. No, it was the
fact that he was holding an iPod over his head with Peter Gabriel’s
In Your
Eyes
playing. A bubble of laughter traveled up her throat, but she held it
back.
Say Anything
had been one of the movies she adored as a teenager
and she’d made Monk watch it with her at least half a dozen times. And now he
was reenacting her favorite scene as best he could.

His green eyes dared her to come out to play. Glancing over
her shoulder, she saw Claudette close the door. Turning back to Monk, Kitty wrapped
one arm around the porch post to keep from throwing herself at him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a low voice to keep
from waking up her
Nonc
Thomas.

He shook his head and still holding the iPod high, held one
hand out to her. Kitty stared at his hand, part of her dying to take it to see
what he was up to, but the other, more experienced Kitty warned her not to do
it. Monk was charming. She knew that better than anyone. If she went to him
whenever he called, she’d be no better than the teenage girl who’d given him
her heart.

He crooked his finger at her in a come-here gesture, a
wicked smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Kitty licked her lips and
shook her head. “What do you want?”

“Come with me and find out.”

She should not be doing this. She was thirty-two years old,
for crying out loud. She didn’t go jaunting off in the middle of the night in
her pajamas, especially when the man she wanted to go with was the same one
she’d wanted to kill only days before. Yet her feet still moved forward, her
arm falling away from the pillar she’d been clinging to.

Kitty reached for his hand and felt something inside her
snap into place when his fingers closed around hers. He lowered his arm holding
up the iPod and tucked it into the pocket of his jeans.

“C’mon, Kitty-Cat,” he said in a near whisper and tugged her
hand to get her moving.

She followed him down the driveway, her sneakers protecting
her now-tender feet from the gravel. Years ago, her soles would have been tough
enough to walk on the limestone without noticing. City living had changed her.
Closing her eyes, she scented jasmine, grass and Monk. How many times had she
and Monk dropped Daisy off after curfew and taken off as soon as the front door
was closed? She chuckled softly. Too many to count. And every time, Monk would
drive her to the spot by Bayou Rouge where they would fog up the windows of his
Mustang.

He stopped walking and she opened her eyes to see he’d
walked them right up to the same Mustang he’d had in high school. It was in much
better condition now than it’d been back then, but she had a lot of memories
tied up with this car.

“What are we doing?” she asked again now that they were
farther away from the house.

Monk dipped his head to kiss her softly on the lips. “I want
to make out with you.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “What? Here?”

“No,” he said rubbing his nose against hers. “I want to take
you to our spot like we did when we were teenagers.”

Kitty shivered. It was as though he was in her mind and she
didn’t know if she liked it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said
slowly. “This is just friends with benefits, Monk. If you’re trying to recreate
something—”

He placed his fingers against her mouth. “No, baby, I’m not
trying to make up for anything. I was tuning up my car earlier and I thought
how much fun we used to have together in our spot. I wanted to see if it’s
still as much fun as it was. That’s all. I promise.”

She studied him in the meager light and saw the seriousness
in his eyes and scented the spice of his arousal. Making out with Monk in his
car as if they were teenagers again? What could be the harm in that?

“Okay.”

* * * * *

Their spot hadn’t changed much over the years, but only
because Monk had purposely purchased this piece of land not long after he graduated
from high school. It might have been morbid of him, but he’d wanted to own the
land where he’d taken Kitty’s virginity. In the years since, he would visit the
small plot nestled between thick oak and cypress trees that grew along Bayou
Rouge. This was their place. The place where they’d lie together on a blanket
or on the hood of his car and make plans for their future together.

With his cougar’s idea to seduce her into being their mate
in mind, Monk had spent the time between fighting with Zach and tonight, coming
up with plans that would end with Kitty accepting another mating mark. The
first step in the plan was to make her fall in love with him all over again. He
hoped coming back here to neck like a couple of teenagers would remind her of
why she’d loved him in the first place. He felt like a fucking genius for the
John Cusack impersonation even though he’d had to settle for his old high
school letterman instead of a trench coat. The look in Kitty’s eyes when she
saw him had made his heart rate increase and the rest of him go to mush.

He loved her more than he had fifteen years ago and it was
time she knew it.

Shutting off the engine, Monk glanced over at Kitty to see
her staring out the windshield as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. With her
distracted, he took a minute to take in the very short shorts she wore, the
little tank top that didn’t do much to cover her breasts, and the silk robe.
Oh, and he couldn’t forget the sneakers. He grinned at his woman’s feet.

“What are you grinning at?” she asked in a playful tone that
made his cock stand at attention.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned back, spreading his arm
over the back of her seat. “Your feet. You stopped to put shoes on. Not
slippers, but shoes.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, when
Tante
Claudette woke
me up, I wasn’t sure what to expect. She just said
Nonc
was going to
shoot someone.”

“Kitty Marie, were you worried about me?” he asked in fake
astonishment, pleased when his acting made her cheeks flush. “That’s so sweet.”

“Shut up, Monk Paul,” she sassed back. “I didn’t want to
have to take down my uncle before he committed murder. What in the world were
you thinking?”

He reached over to stroke the long length of her neck. “I
was thinking that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and I had to
see you tonight.” The skeptical look she sent him made him want to laugh. He
held it in though. Barely. “You think I don’t find you gorgeous, Kitty-Cat?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re a male who wants to get in my
pants, Monk. Of course you’re going to think I’m attractive. I don’t mind
though ’cause I want to get in your pants too.”

His cougar purred. She was being playful. Perfect.

“Well why don’t you come over here?” he asked with a pat on
his lap.

She eyed the bulge at his groin. “That doesn’t look very
comfortable.”

“It’s the best seat in the house,” he said with a fake leer.
He grinned at her laughter. “C’mon, sugar, give me some sugar.”

She kicked off her shoes and crawled closer to him across
the gear shift, the scent of woman and spices filling the air. Without her
needing to ask, Monk eased his seat all the way back, memories of doing this
exact same thing years ago crashing through his mind. Having a lap full of
Kitty Chambers had been some of the happiest memories of his youth.

When she swung her leg over to straddle him, he held his
breath and let it out with a shuddering groan as she lowered herself directly
over his cock. He could feel her heat through his denim and her thin shorts and
all he wanted to do was dive right in, but he wasn’t here to make love to her.
He was doing this to show her he had restraint. He did have restraint, right?
Right?

His heart thundered in his ears when she wiggled in his lap.
“Why, Monk, what a big…stick shift you have.”

“Brat,” he groaned as he gripped her hips to hold her still.
Not that it helped much. He could smell her arousal and almost taste the honey
between her legs. “You know, I never did get to taste you,” he mused out loud.
She went still on top of him. “I spent hours and hours jerking off as a teenager
thinking about burying my face in your pussy, lapping at you until you came.”
Her scent grew stronger and her nipples hardened beneath her tank top. “It was
my number-one fantasy, followed by taking you in every position known to man.”

Her hands came up to rest on his shoulders, her hips
grinding a wicked little circle against his denim-covered cock. “And now?
What’s your number-one fantasy?”

To mark you again and make you mine, this time forever.
The words were there on the tip of his tongue, but he held them back. She’d
only go back to defense mode if she suspected he was doing any of this to mate
her again. Instead, he said, “It’s still my number-one fantasy, except this
time I’d lay you out on the hood of the car and eat you out that way.”

The way she shivered told him she wasn’t completely opposed
to the idea, but February was still a little too cool for that kind of play. If
he could convince her to stay home, he’d wait until March or April to make love
to her on the hood. For now though, he’d play with her and hopefully keep his
cock in his pants.

Kitty looked down at him, her dark eyes wide, her lips
parted on panted breaths. “Kiss me, Monk.”

He slid his hands into her short hair, cupping the back of
her skull. He kissed her with everything he had, trying to convey to her
exactly how much he needed her, loved her and wanted her. He tried to tell her
with the almost reverent way he brushed his lips against hers, in the way he
kissed the corners of her mouth, or when he nibbled on her bottom lip. She was
gasping by the time his tongue delved between her lips, her sweet and spicy
taste flooding him.

Her hands scrambled against his shoulders, clutching him
tighter to her, her breasts pressed into his chest. The heat in the car was
getting unbearable as his temperature began to rise. Remembering he still wore
his jacket, Monk tried to get out of the fucking torture device, but it was too
tight in the shoulders now. He’d had to strain to get in it in the first place.

His flailing tore his mouth from Kitty’s and one of his
hands slapped her shoulder. “Ow! What are you doing?” she asked in a breathless
voice.

“I’m trying,” he grunted and sat forward only to press her
into the steering wheel, or rather the horn, which let out a loud bleat,
“fuck.” He sat back against his seat. “I’m trying to get out of this fucking
jacket.”

He grunted again, still struggling with the sleeves when he
felt her shaking against him. Startled, he looked up to see she had her hand
pressed over her mouth, her eyes wide with laughter as she giggled.

“Think that’s funny, huh?” he asked, relaxing back against
his seat. She nodded with her hand still over her mouth, looking so damn
beautiful it made his heart ache. He smiled at her. “It’s probably a good thing
I couldn’t get out of this jacket because I didn’t bring you here to make love
to you.”

Her laughter died. “You didn’t?”

Monk shook his head, his hands coming to rest on her bare
knees. “Nope. I came here to make out with you. Clothes on.”

She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “But I’m
horny now.”

He coasted his hands up her long, silken thighs. “I can take
care of that,” he murmured as he came closer and closer to the edge of her
shorts. “Lift your shirt over your breasts.”

“No. You said clothes on,” she told him with that damn
stubborn tilt to her chin.

He shrugged, his thumbs flirting beneath the edge of her
shorts, close to the wet heat of her cunt. “That’s okay, I can work around
that.”

Leaning forward, he captured one of her hard nipples through
the thin material of her top, his thumbs finding her slick flesh. She wasn’t
wearing panties. Again. He almost came right then and there. He definitely
liked this new Kitty. Hell, he loved her and not just because she seemed to
have developed an aversion to underwear. She was smart and funny and tough.